


Calling A Tornado Home

by GoldfishForHire



Category: DCU (Comics), Impulse (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Bart likes hugs, Emotional Vulnerability, Flashfam, Found Family, Gen, Hugging, I like to write hugs, Some angst, Validation, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24627298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldfishForHire/pseuds/GoldfishForHire
Summary: Max knows that most of the time, Bart needs the chance to figure things out for himself. But after Max's hospitalization and their battle against Savitar and the loss that came with it, he knows there are some things he needs to address and some reassurances that he needs to make.
Relationships: Bart Allen & Max Crandall
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	Calling A Tornado Home

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of Dead Heat in the Flash and Impulse comics.

Max stood at the stove and added the green onions and garlic into the stir fry. Bart was behind him, was beside him, was in the backyard, was beside him again, and was spending the whole time chattering almost nonstop about the battle against Savitar a few days earlier. Almost nonstop. To a non-speedster, the boy would definitely seem to have been keeping up a steady stream of noise. Even to the speedsters who didn’t know him as well, the small lulls in his retelling might seem inconsequential. But Max had been living with and teaching and raising this boy for quite some time now and he could hear as Bart started to refer to the preceding events to their battle just as easily as he could hear Bart stumble over and abandon those same talking points to refocus on something - anything - else.

Bart was in the fridge, was stealing food from the pan, was in the living room, was at the table as Max added the shrimp and stirred in the sauce. The younger speedster was as energetic as ever, but inconsistent with it. Usually the kid kept his whirlwind pretty close to wherever Max was, exploring into whatever project the older man was in the middle of. When he did establish a larger perimeter, it was usually because he was either about to be in trouble, or thought he already was. And those times he mostly kept to it. This yo-yoing between closeness and distance was unusual. 

Max considered what needed to be addressed and how to best go about it as he dished up their dinner. He brought the plates to the table and sat down as Bart was watching him, was looking away, was in the hall, was sitting back down. “Mr. Sheridan called while we were out. You aren’t in trouble, but he wanted me to know about how my hospitalization had been affecting you. He cited concerns in your classroom and in the lunchroom.”

Bart blurred up the stairs and then back to the table. And then once more. “It wasn’t really a big deal.”

Max kept his eyes on his plate as he chewed and swallowed. “Iris had you go to school because she genuinely thought it would be the best option for you. She thought there wasn’t anything for you to do in the hospital room.”

Bart sped outside, then back through the front and to his chair again, leaning back with his arms crossed. “I know that.”

“More than that, she thought that it was important for you to have real life experience without the speedforce in case it was an extended condition, and especially if it was permanent.”

The chairs around the table moved slightly as Bart ran between them in a high speed game of musical chairs, and then he sped around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets loudly until he stopped in the middle of the room. “I know that already.”

“Wally wasn’t there to weigh in, of course.” Max reached for his glass of water and took a drink.

“Yeah, but we know what he would have said. He’d have wanted me out of the way.” Bart vibrated in place a few times and muttered, “Like usual.”

The older speedster speared a shrimp and chewed it thoughtfully, deciding to leave that for now. “The others who came down weren’t really qualified to share an opinion on the matter, so it was reasonable that they deferred to Iris.”

Bart didn’t leave the room, but leaned forward with the force of his shout. “I know all that!”

Max put down his utensils and pushed away from the table. He walked up to Bart and stared him down for a moment. The boy’s expression was determined and frustrated, but fragile as well. More hurt than angry. Max reached out and dropped his hand onto his head, pressing down just a little and burying his fingers in the kid’s thick hair. “I know you know that, Bart. But I wanted you to know that I know it.”

Bart’s face screwed up, no doubt ready to yell at him for talking in puzzles. But Max cut in before he could say anything, “I want you to know that I already know those things when I tell you that they handled it wrong.”

Bart’s eyes widened and his gaze dropped down to stare vaguely across at his chest. “Grandma was just -”

“I know.”

“They just wanted to -”

“I know, Bart. But that doesn’t make it right.”

Bart bowed his head beneath his hand as he continued. “It’s not fair for them to treat you like a selfish child when they want to condescend to you, but then send you away to handle it by yourself when you’re vulnerable. It’s not fair that they all got to be together in the hospital room with me and left you all alone.”

Bart vanished. He was gone for long enough that Max dropped his hand. Minutes passed and he stood in the middle of his kitchen and waited for that quick, bright boy to come back. He worried about Bart for a lot of reasons, but not this. He’d always be able to trust Bart with things like coming back home, even if he is distressed. Especially if he’s distressed. 

Max sighed. He was supposed to be a mentor. Just someone experienced who understood a lot about the speedforce and a bit about life. They weren’t supposed to be anything more. But when did that ever stay true? And if not him, then who? It was so frustrating. How many times did he have to say it? Being able to run fast didn’t mean you couldn’t have patience. You just had to want to.

Max wanted to. Max wanted this kid. But everything was so complicated. Did what happened with Laura and Helen affect what was developing with Bart? Should it?

Before he could follow that train of thought any further, Bart appeared again, hesitating in the doorway. Max held his hand out again and Bart ran up to him. The potential outcomes didn’t matter. He’d take the future as he’d learned he had to; as it came. “I’m sorry for the way they handled it.”

Max dropped his hand when Bart turned his face away from him but looked at him sidelong. “They didn’t mean anything bad.” A defense and a question in one sentence. 

“No, they didn’t.” Max tilted his head, eyes locked on Bart’s face. “But they were still wrong. That doesn’t mean they were some awful evil. That’s not what I’m saying. You can be angry about it without blaming them for it. You can be sad about it without blaming them for it.”

Bart disappeared again, but only briefly. He reappeared in the same spot and looked up at Max. Max studied him. “You can be angry with me too. That’s okay.”

Bart jerked back. He was across the room, was behind him, was in the doorway again, was back in front of him. “Why would I be mad at you?”

Max shrugged. “Part of why you’re here with me is so that I can keep you safe. And part of that is making sure you feel safe. I dropped the ball on that this time. I’m sorry for that.”

Bart shook his head. “You didn’t ask to get captured. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I didn’t make your needs clear enough to the others when I talk about you. That doesn’t mean I can’t address it now though. Talk about it with at least Iris.”

Bart’s expression warmed at that before it clouded over. He vibrated in place before stilling again. “At school. In the lunchroom. Carol told the others about you.”

Bart’s arm blurred as he wiped at his eyes, but Max could still hear the tears in his voice. “They said that I didn’t care. They laughed at me.”

Max felt the anger pool in his gut, but he kept it from translating into movement and waited the boy out.

“It’s not true.” 

“I know it’s not. You’re a good kid.”

The boy flung himself forward, head colliding with Max’s chest with enough speed behind it that it would have hurt if Max hadn’t matched his speed. Bart wrapped his arms tightly around Max’s waist and Max banded one arm around his shoulders and brought the other hand up to cradle the back of his head. Bart vibrated against him and Max measured his breathing to give him a baseline to return to when he was ready. But they weren’t done yet.

Bart’s breathing gradually slowed to match Max’s and he relaxed his hold. 

“It was a lot to handle all by yourself, hmmm?” Max asked.

Bart sighed and nodded.

“Especially since it wasn’t the only hard thing you were struggling with, right?” He looked down at Bart as the boy straightened up and cocked his head quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean being cut off from your speed. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

“That’s not true.” Bart pulled away completely. “You lost your speed too. Everyone did.”

Max shook his head, but Bart had already vanished and reappeared behind him. He could hear Bart saying something too fast for him to catch without speeding up. He didn’t bother with that; just gave Bart the space and time to figure out what he wanted to say and how.

A few seconds later, Bart was in front of him again. “Besides, I was more focused on what happened to you. Everyone was.”

Max grunted. “True. But that’s what tends to happen when multiple stressful events happen at the same time. The mind prioritizes to keep from being overwhelmed. You were upset about what happened to me, but you were also scared about what had happened to you. Right?”

The guilt that cracked through the kid’s expression was completely unjustified, but there all the same. His hands blurred as he wrung them. “No. I…”

Max tried to wait him out again, but with nothing else forthcoming, he spoke. “Bart, everyone else was incredibly disturbed by losing their speed as well. True; a lot of it was because they couldn’t use it to help, but also it was because they lost something that had become part of their identity. Something that had become a part of their most basic sense of self. But it was worse than that for you, right?”

Bart shook his head and was behind him, was in the hall, was in the yard, was backed against the kitchen counter. Wanting to avoid the significance of their conversation, of being made to look at and acknowledge the emotional turmoil he’d felt. But also not wanting to leave, not wanting to be on his own. Again. Max wished he could spare Bart this, but life really wasn’t a video game. Sudden and lasting life changing events and scenarios didn’t just happen to you with no emotional fallout. Even good changes had an impact. And he didn’t want Bart to keep thinking that his own emotional and mental needs were either something that didn’t matter or were something that he should feel guilty about. He needed to learn that there was a difference between the things he did or wanted because of a misunderstanding of how those wants and actions fit into their lives in general and the things he did or wanted and needed simply because he was a person and was deserving of other people’s consideration. And he couldn’t figure that out alone.

“When the others lost their speed, they reverted back to what they’d been before. But not you. You were born connected to the speedforce and had never been without it before. Not even Jenni knew what that would have been like. Even if you didn’t fully feel it at the time, that must have been frightening.”

Bart was vibrating slightly, but continuously. He bowed his head again but pressed himself further back into the counter.

“You were alone in that. No one could have understood what it was like for you, but that doesn’t mean that they should have left you - or any kid, for that matter - alone in that, too. It was the wrong choice.”

Bart flinched and seemed to shrink into himself. “I’m not their kid.”

For the first time tonight, Max hesitated. It was probably too soon. But he’d spent so long living with this kid and waking up with him and eating with him. Sending him off to school and talking with him. Encouraging him and coming down on him as needed. He’d spent so much time and energy teaching and guiding and growing. He remembered the look on Bart’s face when Jenni was pretending to know that Max adopted him in the future. And he remembered the look on his face when he realized it was a joke. Maybe it was too soon. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true.

“You’re right. You’re not their kid. You’re mine.”

Bart’s head snapped up and he looked at him warily. Like he was afraid he’d misheard. Or was being made fun of. But then Max held his hand out to him again and Bart launched himself at Max with enough force that, even matching his speed, the boy knocked him back a couple steps. He buried his head in Max’s chest again and wailed his name. Bart wrapped his arms around the man’s larger frame and started to vibrate as all of the too-big feelings he’d been trying to ignore and leave behind these past couple of days began to overwhelm him. Max bent forward to drop a kiss on the top of his head and held him fiercely but kept his voice soft. “I’m sorry that it was so hard for you. There are a lot of things that I could trust you to handle alone. And there are a lot of circumstances where I know I could leave you alone, even for an extended amount of time, and you’d be fine. This wasn’t one of them. I’m sorry it happened that way.”

He smoothed his hand over Bart’s hair and slowly rubbed circles on his back. Eventually the smaller speedster calmed down. His eyes dried though they stayed red until his healing kicked in. He loosened his tight hold on Max without letting go. And they stayed like that for a moment. Just being. Just existing in each other’s space. This sort of stillness was rare for Bart, but important. Max knew it wouldn’t happen often, but that wasn’t on it’s own the deficit that other people sometimes seemed to think it was. 

Unsurprisingly, Bart was the one who broke the silence. What was surprising, however, was that he didn’t deviate from the sober mood. “I meant what I said before.”

Max hummed. “What did you say?”

“About JQ. About when he died.” Bart’s arms tightened seemingly reflexively and Max wondered if he was making the parallel to Max’s own close call.

“Do you remember what I said?”

Bart gave a small snort. “Of course.”

Max smothered a quiet laugh. “And what did I say?”

Bart huffed. Max was about ninety percent sure there was an accompanying eye roll. “You said ‘Live and learn’. But you didn’t explain what that meant.”

“What do you think it meant?”

Bart gave a high pitched whine. “Why are we doing homework about this?”

Max stopped the smile before it could leak into his voice. “Just take a guess, Bart.”

Bart sighed dramatically but then almost seemed to shrink back into himself again. “I guess it means...try harder next time?”

Max’s breath caught and he reached up to push the hair out of Bart’s eyes as the boy turned his head to look up at him cautiously. “No, kid. That’s not what it means. Nothing that happened there was your fault. There’s nothing for you to try harder on.”

“Then what else could it be?”

Max sighed. “Things like that - death and injury - those are risks that come with the job. You know that. Everyone knows that. But that doesn’t mean you actually understand it. It’s a lesson that’s never going to hit home for you or anyone else until you actually have experience with it. I was never going to want you to have to understand it in this way. But now you do. And you’re going to have to learn to live with this understanding.”

Bart hummed. “That’s why you’re always wanting me to do better about thinking things through before acting. Right?”

“Yes.” Max shrugged. “And no. You do need to work on critical thinking and on your planning. And I am worried about your safety, though it may not always look like it from an onlooker’s perspective.”

Bart laughed quietly and Max knew that they were both thinking of their weapons and vibrational practice.

“You are going to need to get a lot better at those skills eventually, especially if you’re going to want to join a team like the Titans someday. But you’re already doing well. You should be proud of the progress you’ve made.”

Bart vibrated again and then burrowed harder into him. “Wally always says that I need to be better now.”

Max snorted. “Wally seems to have forgotten what he was like when he was younger and having fun with his speed.”

He feels Bart jolt. “You knew him when he was a kid?”

“No.” Max shook his head. “But kid, Wally’s still like that sometimes. Just ask Linda or your Grandma. The reason he’s so hard on you when you rush ahead is because you’re so much like him. It frightens him. And it irritates him because he’s had to learn to keep risk in mind and then there you are making the mistakes he would have made anyway. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t get to have the time to learn these things for yourself. You two are so similar that you don’t hear each other even if you wanted to.”

Bart pursed his lips and looked like he wanted to argue but didn’t. Max ruffled his hair and Bart grinned. “Come on. Food’s waiting.”

They went back to their seats. Max took a drink and Bart was across the table, was back by the counter, was in the doorway, was sitting next to him with his plate brought over. Max took a bite and Bart blurred. Their chairs clacked as Bart slid them together and leaned against Max’s shoulder.

The stir fry had gotten cold, but they ate it together.


End file.
